Absencen, the fifth document from this German electro-jazz ensemble, stands
as their most ambitious, exultant recording to date. While previous endeavors
similarly entailed imperceptible harmonic turns, quiet energy (by way of toneless
blowing into the saxophone), and heart-on-sleeve ecstasy of exuberant electronics,
Kammerflimmer Kollektief presently eschew the temptation to sand away their rough
edges, flaunting a wily allusiveness and restless light touch that should elicit
smiles.

"Lichterloh" is a suitable opening piece, the music's analytical propensities
testing the ensemble's aspiration to organic coherence. The group successfully
integrates taped electronic elements with acoustic instruments, making the
electronics
less crisp and cerebral, more emotional and vivid in their lyrical
aspirations. While still supple and expressive, the electronics no longer
act as a leveling-down device, souring the wayward trumpet and brewing a bland
froth akin to much of the output from the morr music camp. Instead, Absencen's
stew bubbles and boils in a fiery, rambunctious manner; trumpet and alto sax
engage in stream-of-consciousness outpourings that follow no conventional narrative,
seeming content to recognize their own emotion as the ultimate end.

And the moods are as fresh and fragrant as flowerbeds in spring. On "Shibboleth," airy
single notes from a keyboard clash against crackling sheets of frostbitten electronics
in a natural process that sounds like a submerged gamelan. Against this static
backdrop, the temperature of a thin, slinky trumpet rises against shuffling percussion,
taking on a fever that gradually spirals into a creaking cacophony of foundry
sounds and meditative, metallic machine music. All the while, nuances of European
hues emerge in the tracks' chord progression and predilection towards smoke-filled,
melancholy moods, showing the compositions as concise, finely crafted exercises
in which personal style and preference converse with the legacy of a collective
European past.

Other tracks, like the folksy "Unstet," maintain an elegant restraint, telling
a story yet suspending its moments. Strings lap like waves, repeatedly
ebbing
out
into
silence rather than escalating toward some climactic crest. Amid bells struck
carefully, like cymbals in a ceremony, against an onslaught of snaking electronic
cables and a string-stretching guitar motif, the composition evokes the cry of
plovers crossing a starlit promontory. The simply titled "Matt" quickens the
pulse with a hypnotic beat set beside a waltz of strings and horns. In a bout
of deconstruction, the luminous sway of horns mingled with a European-hued string
section yields to an electronic mangling that ruptures rhythm and dislocates
all trace of organized beats, producing a series of sputtering noise collages
like the disembodied voice track of a damaged colossal robot.

Such disparate compositional approaches enable the ensemble to display their
versatility and interpretive skill in a variety of instrumental permutations.
As it is, Absencen is a reminder of music's sustained, creative breadth.